Who The Hell Is Snowbum?

who_the_hell_is_snowbum.htm

 I warn you right now, this piece is LONG, and it rambles a lot, back and forth;....so consider pressing that DELETE or GO BACK key!!      The rambling back and forth in time is on purpose, and goes right along with how I sometimes think (or don't).

For those whose attention span is short, and who want a quick summary, read this short first section in GREEEN, and then go do something useful! 

The last time I was an employee of some company other than my own was when I was the Chief Engineer for Linear Corporation.     I quit Linear (nearly my best job, ever,...a GREAT company!), and did some consulting for a few years before I moved to Lake Tahoe.  

 I built a BMW R100RT-Ural street rig in 2000; and now have a K1100LT-EML GT2 rig I purchased that I have modified to my particular tastes.  I also have a 1984 R100RT solo bike.  I used to have QUITE a fleet of various antique bikes.

Just below, also in green, is a short bit (short, for ME!), mostly tongue in cheek.  The real bio comes later.

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I get all sorts of 'inquiries' about who the hell I am...or, some comments about my having 'done everything'.  I usually answer, if I take the bait at all, by posting from my files a bit of nonsense.   Just so that you can read that, it is the first thing below, in green.  

< I am new to the Airheads LIST, who is "Snowbum"? Is he kind of like "Bigfoot"? Has anyone ever seen him or is he just folklore?> 

The reports of Snowbum being an imaginative character are true. Someone even refers to him as Yeti.  However, both imagination, and existence, are not necessarily in conflict!  Snowbum really exists, at least part-time.   There are creditable witness reports of his being seen at TechDays. Reports of sightings have been received from airheads (small a) at gatherings of various strange folk; national rallies, and motorcycle races.

Purported images of Snowbum, using other names, can be found as far back as the 1950's, in several motorcycling magazines;  in some electronics magazines with articles supposedly written by him; in old articles in BMW Motorcycle Owners News magazines; in some Instrument and Control Systems magazines, and in some government publications.  Rumors are that he uses his real name sometimes, but often used pen names in various magazine articles.  

 Purportedly an image can be found in the October 1999 issue of the sometime Luddite Publication "AIRMAIL", a publication of the Airheads Beemer Club, airbrushed into the middle of a photograph of Bob Clement and Matt Parkhouse, who really do exist. A likeness was published on the cover of an issue of AIRMAIL in 2001, obviously an ethereal appearance, as even the motorcycle he was next to seems ...well...not to be a model  /6....as was described...perhaps the Editor was confused (not altogether impossible nor improbable).   Rumors of an ACTUAL picture of Snowbum being in the June 2003 issue of AIRMAIL, wearing some sort of furred animal on his head, seem outlandish to contemplate.   Perhaps the picture, supposedly taken at a BMW motorcycle TechDay, was doctored, but it appears on page 7.  I'm in AIRMAIL, with Matt Parkhouse, in July 2008 issue...and in BMW MOA in 2008 as well.

 Occasional, always out-of-focus photographs are to be found in existentialistic and science fiction publications.   

Mention of "The Bum", using his real name, and sometimes just Flash or The Flash, are to be found in texts, tabloids, car and motorcycle race books, etc., from the 1950's and 1960's; and some in much more 'modern' publications.   Before he coined the name Snowbum for himself in the late 1990's whilst living at Lake Tahoe, California, he sometimes used his real name....and quite a few motorcycling magazines in late 1971, some in 1972, have pictures and comments about his exploits on his Norton-Vincent, whilst racing at the Bonneville Salt Flats and other places.    There are even earlier magazine articles about his dirt bike racing, sidecar track racing, and closed course paved track racing (Willow Springs, in particular).   Snowbum uses several pen names when authoring articles in various magazines.  In the BMW club's magazines, and other publications, he uses his real name; or, just Snowbum.    In more nefarious circles, The Bum is referred to as "Blinky".  Guess why.

 There was what appears to be an authentic image from an earlier time, in a framed photograph on the wall of the Hughes Laboratories in Malibu, California, some sort of ethereal nonsense of a photo...showing a junior engineer type (from the pencil protector in his shirt pocket) standing next to Mr. Hughes and a Twin-Beech aircraft.....it has been said that they both vomited immediately after the experience.....Mr. Hughes from the association implied, and me from the 'flight'.   Rolling in Hell.....was how I described that day.   We had a 'project' for the government to test in the water off one of the Channel Islands.  Can't say much more.

According to Mark Twain, reports of Snowbum's existence were greatly exaggerated.

Verbose postings ascribed as being from Da Bum...or Snowbum ...to the Airheads LIST should always be taken with exhausting skepticism; or, at least some salts...which have the same result. 
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Snowbum's mottos/sayings/other nonsense, are:

To HELL with whether the glass is half empty...or half full......refill my glass!   Which is pretty crazy, considering that he hardly drinks alcohol at all these days, and never did much, anyway, contrary to many who think otherwise.   Then, again, I HAVE promoted that I like good booze....maybe to better get freebies of cask strength Scotch?....and a good Cuban cigar?

Student of secret arcane disciplines.
Nothing is foolproof to a sufficiently talented fool.
Most folks look intelligent.....then they say something.
Laissez les bons temps rouler (let the good times roll)
Assume a virtue, if you have it not (Hamlet)
Amor vincit omnia (love conquers all.....see Chaucer's The Canterbury Tales)
Meum Dictum Pactum [my word is my bond] (except if I am lying).
Mater Artium Necessitas [necessity is the mother of invention].
Docendo Discimus [we learn by teaching].
Die knowing something, you are not here long. 
A large number of good tests and inspections/measurements, are more valuable than  most opinions based on personal  reports.... but Personal Reports are always suspect... except Snowbum's.
A fountain of smart may, at times, be better than a fountain of youth.
Snowbum may not have The Answer, but he has an Opinion.
A life spent in making mistakes is not only more honorable, but more useful, than a life spent in doing nothing.
Dark Porter, single malt Scotch, and REAL Cuban cigars, are proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy.
Old age and treachery combined with well-honed experienced skills will always overcome youth and exuberance.
Anecdotal Reports are like candy....sweet, engaging, the seller always wants you to absorb more.....may rot something or other. 
Brevity is the Soul of someone else's wit. 
I care not a whit. 
Snowbum has a great hesitancy about engaging in any battle of wits with un-armed opponents.

Words to live by.  My brother sent me this paragraph.....maybe he was fed up with my verboseness?:
    Promulgate esoteric cogitations...articulating superficial sentimentalities and amicable, philosophical, or psychological observations,,, beware of platitudinous ponderosity.  Sedulously avoid all polysyllabic profundity, pompous propensity, psittaceous vacuity, ventriloquial verbosity and vaniloquent vapidity.  Let communications demonstrate clarified conciseness,  compact comprehensibleness, without coalescent conglomerations of preciose garrulity, jejune bafflement, and asinine affectations. Let our extemporaneous verbal evaporations and expatiations have lucidity, intelligibility, and veracious vivacity, without rodomontade or Thespian bombast.  Shun double-entendre, obnoxious jocosity and pestiferous profanity, observable or apparent.  
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Snowbum's Bio:

Note that what follows is not necessarily in chronological order, in fact it flits back and forth with dates, and rambles considerably.  As mentioned previously, this goes right along with my method of thinking and how it rolled back into memory.  It also is true that I am vastly too lazy to fix all of this rambling..  Some few facts/details have been warped and twisted some, maybe to my benefit, maybe not, for reasons of protecting some living folks; and, who knows, maybe to massage my memories and/or ego.....and in particular to keep me out of trouble with various Authorities. 

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I grew up in Los Angeles, now one of America's cesspools;... with greasy hands from playing with most anything mechanical and electrical. I had nicknames, besides Bob, and was sometimes called Flash...or The Flash, coming from my last name early, and from my racing (cars, bikes, sidecar rigs, sports cars, etc....) later.  'Four Eyes' also was used now and then, as I wore eyeglasses from age 4.    

I was fascinated by mathematics and all things scientific.  This made up somewhat (???), for my lack of social graces.

I was exceptionally precocious up until my college years, when my failure to study hard enough (from previous lazy habits) finally  caught up with me, and I found myself one of the faceless crowd, except for the bushy mustache I had most of the time. 

Never being one to knowingly wallow in a sewer, but not being overly bright either, it took me 35 years to figure out that I was living in Los Angeles.   Today the bright light seems to fade now and then, but THEN I was smart enough to give up a good paying, good perks, high titled job (Chief Engineer, Linear Corp.), and move to God's Country, Lake Tahoe, where one has mountains, streams, lakes, ... and 4 seasons.  We also have squawking Stellar Jays, who appreciate the morning peanuts I provide. Now and then one eats out of my hand.  Hardly a raccoon to be seen now though....perhaps they have passed 'the word' about my liking for 'coon hats.      There are some Song-Dogs hereabouts ...I hear a few howling now and then....before they get someone's cat or small dog for their dinner.   I saw a large California black bear (which is really brown) in the street in front of my house in October 2005....and one climbed over my shed and fence in late 2006....and there was another monstrous-sized one in mid-2007 outside my driveway.   I expect to see them.   They are eating trash from folks who fail to keep their trash away from the bears...and, thus, the bears are getting huge, and some don't even hibernate any more.  With the dry 2007 year, and a substantial fire in my area, lots more are showing up.   

  It is still California,...Kalifornica???...... still the Left Coast...at least in a some ways.   My friends around the world told me about all the calamities staying in California would certainly bring upon me.  A friend, Dee Jay Sadler, was convinced by his mother, and her 'friends', that California would slide into the sea upon the next Earthquake.  They moved to Arizona, decades ago.  I did not.  DJ died.  I did not.  
    My house never slid anyplace.   Not the house in Mar Vista (west side of L.A.), nor my house at Tahoe.   I usually inform these folks that tell me about California Earthquakes that my house has not fallen into itself from any earthquake, and the last war, hurricane, tornado, and drive-by shoot-m-ups were hardly memorable, in fact I don't remember any such in my Tahoe neighborhoods.  Never had any in West Los Angeles, Santa Monica, Mar Vista, Venice... places I lived in; ...in the Los Angeles area (heck, I was even living in the Latino area of East L.A. for awhile)...all those years ago.  I will admit to riding my bike to work carrying a large revolver on my hip, immediately after the 1965 Watts Riots.....I worked at Stoddart Aircraft Radio Company then (its changed name became Stoddart Electro Systems) as a Staff Engineer.  The company was previously in Hollywood, but moved to Gardena, CA....and Watts was on my 'to-work' commute.  Hollywood wasn't mostly all gay then either.

I can not see nor hear any freeways from anyplace near my home in the mountains.  We do not have freeways.  No paid-ways either.   The Lake Tahoe region does have, but rarely, heavy traffic... such as 4th of July traffic from visiting hordes of juveniles, some of which are in adult form. We have wildlife, depending on one's tastes (there is plenty of room for wildlife...right next to the mashed potatoes).  We have little fog, nor rain, nor smog.  We have white virginal snow now and then, with long stretches of sunshine between Winter storms;....but the only true virgins around here are neighbors kittens....and children under age 11 (I'm not totally sure about age 11....in THAT, we match other areas of California).  Tahoe has become more touristy, less 'local', tad less 'personal', but is still a wonderful place to live.

One of my mother's two brothers, an uncle, for those of you who are relationships-challenged, was supposedly a trumpeter with the Stan Kenton band, I never heard him with the band, but I received some advice from him on how to meet jazz greats, and not-so-greats (well, the women around them...he eeheee), and I even played piano with some of them.  I early-on dropped any pretense at trying to play clarinet or trumpet, finding them lousy at chords.  

I spent a lot of underage time in jazz and California version of  honky-tonk joints, and also occasionally hung out with Chuck Yeager type folks in the Edwards Airbase (Muroc) area.   For an idea of what those days of Flo (Pancho) Barnes were like, go to this URL and do a SEARCH box for Pancho Barnes.  There are a number of articles, and the URL's tend to change at Edwards, so this is the best method.: 

That bio information on Pancho covers more of the era before I hung out there.

 I had a somewhat strange life for someone in his teen years and even later.    

I went to University High School, a teacher's training school. An innovative school.  I managed to get included in a experimental program that allowed sophomore's to attend UCLA part-time. I took every possible advantage of this.  My much older lady astrologer friend, who taught something or other in that area at UCLA, was a help in this regard.   She took advantage of me.  She wanted me for a 'housepet'.  I balked at that point and didn't go for it. I wonder what would have happened if I had.   I met some very strange folks through knowing her.

  To my chagrin, and a few other things...I found that I was surely NOT the only precociously smart 16-17-18 year-old at UCLA. I also found out that College Girls do not date 'high school boys'. So, I dated girls from Beverly Hills High School, once I was even dating sisters who both lived at home with their parents. One of these gals was in college. I soon found out why this was not a good idea (dating sisters living in the same parents home). I wonder what became of Harriet. Probably long married and with 3 grown kids and a large mortgage and in tow behind some lawyer-husband at a cocktail party.  

I once showed off my motorcycling skills at Harriet's house, by sliding into a pile of maple leaves at the curb, on my thumb, on my BSA B-33.   That is a 500 cc dirt/street bike.

Starting while only in my teens, with saved money I earned from mostly actual manual labor (toting all sorts of things in another uncle's wholesale paper business), I bought a very small, teensy retail electronics store. I sold little in the beginning, but did a lot of repairs, a repair center is what it really was.   After the business was growing enough so that I almost couldn't do it all myself, Motorola announced a honest-to-gosh transistor portable radio. I purchased many dozens, sold them almost instantly.  I now was thinking RETAIL PROFITS!...YES!!!!      RCA had advertised that they would be bringing a mass-produced color TV to the market. I lied my way into receiving a goodly sized shipment, and was the first real dealer in L.A.   I sold a fair amount of them. These unreliable 21 inch sets sold for $800, a HUGE amount of money in the 1951-1953 era.  I became quite a good TV technician. Needing a cheap black and white product line to sell, I took on Muntz TV's, after playing with my folks Muntz Black and White set.   Mad Man Muntz. 4 Track Players, 8 Track Players. Muntz Ranch with homemade apple hooch by the gallon, in the mountains near L.A..,..Muntz Lake, near Hughes Lake.   SHEEESH........the memories....Ed and I once drove up there, his 51 Ford...(or was it my 49 Ford??)......and bought two gallons.  Finished one on the way home.  Got sick.

Not much later, after having made my wallet bulge a bit from its usual thinness, I sold the business. My uncle, of paper company and pier fame, gave me instructions on investing in real estate. We eventually did this together, and with other family members. I was hardly even out of high school and I owned a modest part of a small 4 unit apartment building at 327 South Union Street in Los Angeles, not all that far from City Hall.  Well, I owned that part that was ascribed legally to me that the Government did not own.  I learned about HUD properties, and Government financing.   I learned a lot. 

I was also getting active in the community in some ways and interacting with politicos a bit.   Later, I became very adept in 'allowing' politicians...well, bureaucrats,  to think THEY made the decisions on things. The learning did NOT make me wise. Smarter, maybe, which is not necessarily wiser.  I also learned how to politely threaten politicos, in a way that made them act and do things that I wanted them to do.  I got very good at this in the late 80's and into the 90's, at Tahoe.

    During a period of time after I graduated from High School, I lived in a wonderful big old house in Los Angeles at 1740 South Rimpau Street, with two roommates, Marion Allen and the previously mentioned Dee Jay Sadler.  Strange trio we were.   This house was in a previously upscale WASP (White, Anglo-Saxon Protestant) section of L.A. that was, when we rented the house there, occupied by what we now call Blacks, or African-Americans.  I became a 'member' of their neighborhood, made a point of socializing with them, going to and playing piano in their clubs, especially notable was the Black Orchid.  I even dated a couple of the local girls.   I greatly enjoyed my life there/then and have nothing but the fondest memories of those folks, including a certain weekend when my roommates and I closed off the street and roasted a pig in a huge barbecue that I welded together....in the middle of the street...... for the neighborhood folk.  I have always had a good feeling for other cultures and races; all over the world;.....especially their foods!   I managed a dance at the Orchid; and played the piano there rather often.  I was still under-age.

My left eye always having been considerably weaker than my right eye, I had poor depth perception and thus poor ability to quickly change focus to estimate close distances; hence, I was always lousy at baseball and football. I had 20-20 or better vision with eyeglasses when younger, but my ability to focus quickly as things moved was not good...and got worse as I got into my senior years, and my eyesight got worse, which eyeglasses no longer fully compensated for. I'd been wearing eyeglasses since age 4.    Frankly, even when young, I was not even good, not hardly passable, at even something with LARGE moving objects....like volley-ball.  Having something moving towards me and trying to catch it was not my forte.  It was devilish when I tried boxing.   The glasses also made me look like a NERD (which, frankly, I WAS).    I had a few problems, as I was not very big, and mostly weighed about 125 in High School.   But, I had some friends at a horrible reputation of a place called a "gym" who taught me things.  Gym's, THEN, were places with smelly locker-rooms, that hairy big guys with smelly feet frequented, and at the center of the single room gym was a regulation boxing ring.   I loved it there.   

  My eyesight was OK for flying as a pilot, wearing glasses, in the beginning.  That I managed to do this for our illustrious government, who had rules on NO corrective lenses, speaks volumes....which are NOT going to be herein illuminated by me.....suffice it to mention that I did the eye exams by not having regular prescription glasses (I wore military dark glasses when on duty....no one asked if they were Rx)....and memorizing all 5 eye charts...I did have to be very careful in my flying, due to my limited depth perception.    Summer of 2007 I found that my left eyesight not quite good enough to pass the FAA Commercial Pilot physical examination....so I had my left eye's lens removed and an artificial one installed.  My vision improved VERY markedly.   The same surgery was done on my right eye in October.   It is a common type of surgery for cataracts.   I will need eyeglasses for closeup work (I had my implanted lenses focused for distance vision).   I'll probably just continue to wear eyeglasses all the time, having them optimized for all distances.

One of my cousins once tapped me......for one day....to watch over the dozen or so very young children she harbored at her daytime job: her backyard nursery school.  Of necessity I instantly became adept at handling whining and crying kids.  Thus, being an experienced expert from those few hours of exposure, I didn't expect...nor want... to have to do that ever again.   I was wrong.  Maybe I was right.    I have two GodChildren; and two step-children...they are in their forties, married, with children of their own.    Step-grandfather??

I did not handle swimming very well.  I also did not do very well at the diving lessons I once took. Water and I just do not mix well, overall anyway. AND, how did THAT mix with wanting to be a Marine?  Damned if I know, Boot Camp, etc., was a long time ago.  My answer....if there is one......is that one can do almost anything, if motivated enough (""swim or drown"".......they did things a bit differently in the Marines back then).

I really enjoy good booze, and have an extensive bar, and sometimes have a dark brewski in my hand at campouts, etc. It is my one...or two... for the entire day.   I gained a minor reputation as liking alcohol. I nurtured the reputation; but...honestly... it was never ever true.   Unfortunately, or fortunately, I suffer from an inherited mild form of migraines and other types of headaches, and honestly hardly drink much at all, as alcohol sometimes triggers those headaches.   I'd rather be un-beer'd, than have one of those damn headaches. Still, I WILL go for one brewski, RARELY two, now and then.  I can get headaches from non-alcoholic beer....must be the chemicals left in from the process.    A dark Porter, or a half ounce or one ounce of fine Scotch...or half a glass of wine (years ago, one full glass was OK)....or a gin and tonic...that's about it for me these days.   The headaches are a built-in protection against being a drunk.  But, I have a palate for good stuff, if not in quantity.  In the same way, I have cut down in some other (few...!) areas....I hardly smoke cigars at all anymore.  Never did inhale the smoke, but maybe one or two puffs, very very rarely.  I do like good tasting tobacco....still have some PRE-Castro Havana cigars...I smoke one or two a year....

I had a lot of fun as a member of the Rifle Team in High School, for which I received my second school letter. The first was in Track. The letters honestly meant little to me, I was NOT the type that was 'into sports and school spirit', and I never attended many school extracurricular activities, and certainly, later, never any school reunions; .....no, .....I was very nerdly into mechanical and electronic things;....but the two letters' effect on some peers was quite nice. I would have loved to have had the letters in football or baseball.   It was very interesting when I tried out for the B football team.....light weight, smaller stature, can't focus well on balls coming or going....

I particularly liked the rifle team, as we had many days at OTHER schools,  for 'contests'  (""meets"").  I think that I was the only person who joined the rifle team that was not a member of the ROTC.   The only reason they allowed me in was likely that I was already tied to some REAL military friends....and...I was an excellent shot with a rifle.   I did not like most of those ROTC guys one little bit, something about the type of personality that most had.  I felt it was perfectly OK that they become cannon fodder. They returned the feeling.... but, as I said...I was ' a very good shot' ...and owned a very good Match-Quality rifle.   I used that custom-made rifle for those Meets, and earned a few medals.   I fell right into military training, after I joined The Government Service, with no problems.   Well, not exactly, Marines' training was not so nice, proper, genteel,  in the late 1950's and early 1960's.  It is still rather grueling...but nicer.  My parents hadn't the foggiest idea where and what I was doing ...or even being at Camp Pendleton......they thought I was staying at Bucky's house, at his folks place on upper San Vicente....Bucky's dad was a real Colonel in the Marines, .....more later on him.

As a teenager, I played piano some evenings at The Lighthouse...a jazz joint....Howard Rumsey's was the house band.  I also played at a couple of coffee houses, Café Paisano in particular, and sat in now and then at Shelly's Mannhole (for you filthier minded folks, his name was Shelly Mann).  I was  comfortable in coffee houses, even those filled with cheap Mexican smoke, which cost about $12 a kilogram at the Mexican side of the border, and it came in honest to gosh pressed-bricks. It was hardly the high powered pot of today. I did my share for a short while...but found it interfered with my studies and hobbies.   I once, purposely, went up in a small airplane, with a check pilot, to find out what the effects would be from two puffs of that low-quality Mexican pot....that cured me of ever thinking about smoking and flying.     I have not done any pot in many decades.   I preferred good Tequila, but only in small quantities. Unless I was riding my motorcycle. Then I preferred, but did not.  I wasn't 'into' good wines back then, nor, much, into dark beers and ale (hard to find then).

I was 'the kid at the piano' at an infamous 'queer' bar (queers are now called 'gay') in Santa Monica Canyon, near where it joins the Pacific Coast Highway.  I developed some gay friendships, later some strong ones.  I still have a few....both male and female.  I am comfortable in "their society" and at their social events.   I've even been a care-giver for those with full-blown AIDS.      I just don't have the major uneasiness in strange social situations.....sexual, racial, political, religious....that many folks seem to have.  I tend to LIKE off-beat and unusual situations; and, sometimes have a very perverse sense of humor and way of dealing with those things; and, in dealing with the folks that have prejudiced ideas about such.  

I do not appreciate being embarrassed, but, those things go along with life.  I have been known to get embarrassed on the dance floor, having three left feet sometimes.   Penny convinced me to attend ballroom dancing classes at the local Community College, in 2006-7.  We had fun, and will continue signing up for these short courses.  We try to go dancing every month at local events.  I still have three left feet sometimes.   The smile on my wife's face when we are dancing makes it all worth it...to a rather big degree.   

When still a teenager, I learned a whole bunch about what is now called "alternative" life-styles. I became relatively comfortable around every sort of Bohemian. The earliest period I remember was when folks like Jack Keroac and Ezra Pound were (supposedly) "around" Venice Beach;...and, Venice was a place I knew well....the BEAT generation it was called.  

I had fairly close friendships with some folks in the publishing business, as well as with some fairly well-known off-beat (pun intended) cartoonists. I had some writing talent, which I occasionally misused and sometimes I got things published, this being before I became an engineer who got technical articles published.  I had a zero regarding cartooning.  In fact, I don't have much of an artistic side, or if I do, I cannot find it easily (except that I CAN be very artistic in my cooking).  That is, I am not good at creating original art.  I am pretty good at looking, touching, etc., good art.  I am not too shabby at SEEING art.  I am very good at seeing the artistry of Mother Nature, in our Great Outdoors.    I admit to having some sort of talent for placing wit and satire onto paper. Sometimes in a curmudgeonly way.  I have become somewhat more cynical; or at the least I have taken a somewhat comical view of life in general as time passed, and I suspect this began with my early wide-ranging experiences.   Understanding these types of folks gave me a Head Start, pun intended.    I even managed to live in a couple of commune's at one time...... Victor Barranco's "Morehouses".  I taught weekend courses there, on such as Money, Jealousy, Possessions; AND....." Basic Sexuality".   I met and KNEW some of the Kinsey's crew; and studied with them.

 While still very young I became a lifeguard at the beach.... ....real babe-magnets we lifeguards....... having a homemade surfboard never hurt...and, I had a Buick Woody car converted to hold surfboards.  Never mind that my right ear could cause me to get dizzy if in over a few feet of water.  Never mind that I was a poor swimmer (well, maybe not THAT bad)!    I NEVER EVER took that car to my parents home; they never saw it.  After I decided to go to college full time, I sold that rare Buick for a very high price.    Seldom were the board(s) in the car during the sunny daytimes I was at the beach for ANY reason;...no, they were leaning up against  'my'  lifeguard stand. I built two surfboards, including a motorized (mini-jet) one.  I designed and machined the jet on a lathe and mill, at school, in the Shop class.

    Years later, my friend Dave Furst, who also did strange mechanical contraptions sorts of things...and I..... got into Vincent motorcycles in a BIG way; and I expanded all over the Vincent world; Dave was responsible for a fair amount of the work on the NORVIN (Norton Frame, Vincent Engine) that I used in August of 1971 to set a Class World Record, at the Bonneville Salt Flats.

I was also playing with BMW sidecar racing & all sorts of engines, and trying to get sponsored for racing my Alfa....and Pellandini finally gave me some sponsorship.   I also got some sponsorship from Iskendarian, Joe Hunt, Vic Edelbrock, and a few others.  I KNEW these folks personally.   I raced Morgans and Porsche's for awhile. I did all sorts of riding, wrenching (and a slight amount of wenching), racing, and general rabble rousing. MOSTLY it was motorcycles.  I was now a late teenager, running around in a twenties and older adult world....sometimes (nearly always, actually) driving my parents crazy. A cousin or two looked up to me, the black sheep of the family, but I never understood why at that time. My own brother and I got along like estranged acquaintances. My parents would tell me years later how much he looked up to me. I never saw nor felt that... as well as a lot of other things I probably was oblivious to. I was FAR too busy very selfishly being ME. 

Those names from the past like McDonald, Iskendarian, Donny Vesco, Phil Hill, Skip Van Leuwen, Al Mark, Art Gerrick, DJ Sadler, Dick Mann, Doug Bingham....etc. ....were some of the people I knew, some of them very well.  Most are dead.  I am not. NOT YET.  Once in awhile I rode bikes with some of the movie names of the time, some of whom lived in Cheviot Hills and Bel Air, etc.   Some of these folks also are dead. 

 I have noticed that if I know people long enough, they die.  I am not taking any extraordinary credit for that, but feel I should warn you. 

 I suspect that my gym time, outlook on life, and often good eating habits (especially in mid-life), contributed to why I am ...supposedly....in good condition for my age, and I intend to stay that way.   GOD (and so fickle at times; black women are like that, EH?) grants us only so much time.  In truth, I have no real depth of belief in a God, a being, or non-being.  I probably am closer to a Taoist, a Buddhist.  I do not practice, nor believe-in, any sort of ORGANIZED...or UNorganized.... religion. I have rather strong views on SOME types of 'religious' folks.

Earl Flanders became a sponsor, and kept that status, including being my official timer for the A.M.A.... right into 1971 when I raced at the Bonneville Salt Flats, setting that record.  Flanders became a West Coast motorcycle parts supplier, was into BMW's.   The Flanders Company still exists.  Butler & Smith  'WAS'  BMW out West.   I tried to get my hands on the R69S that Penton rode across the U.S. in a bit over 2 days, that must have been around 1960. I thought the R69S was THE bike to ride. This was REALLY strange, since everyone knew that BMW's were NOT the 'cool wheels' of the times ....nor not quite now, either.  In 1956 I purchased a new Triumph TR6.  I was 19.  My first NEW bike.   My friend Ed Nelsen purchased the same.  I purchased mine after seeing what his would do.   He never became a real rider.  I did, and began putting on tens of thousands of miles, then hundreds of thousands.  I have vastly more miles on bikes than in cars.

 Although I enjoyed just about every type of motorcycling and bike and car events, along the way I got seriously into road racing, and raced for fun a Vincent, and more especially my Gold Star and two Manx Nortons (I had a 350 and a 500).   Later I got into dirt biking and had a pair of 400 Husqvarna's....those were state of the art then.  They would be curiosity items, being hugely overweight, and with lousy suspensions, by TODAY's standards.    I had three Harley's at various times.  One was a 1948/9 Knucklehead (NOT a Panhead, yes I know I said 1948/9) that I put an enormous amount of mileage on, then stored it for some years, and got a lot of money for that dead-stock totally worn-out bike.  I had one of the first Sportster's.  It had ONE white saddlebag.   I also had a hopped up '80'.  I have not owned a Harley in MANY decades. I am simply not a Harley groupie type of guy, and today it is MOSTLY all poseurs and groupies (well, truthfully...there STILL ARE some of the old time guys and gals around).   Since I did all the mechanical work on just about every vehicle I have ever owned, I managed to get a lot of experience.   I did join a sort-of Outlaw m/c club...called The Satan's Boys.  We were hardly as nasty as the name implies; although we did, rarely though, have joint rides with the Galluping Gooses.    My last big event with the Satan's Boys was at the 1957 Catalina Grand Prix Race.   I've found out only recently that some of the guys I probably knew from those m/c years are still hanging out in a disreputable place in L.A......I think of visiting some time.  Never have....I've dropped all of them...and it.  A photo of my Club jacket is on my website.

It was not long before I started getting more and more involved with BMW motorcycles.

I owned a succession of BMW airheads, putting some big mileage's on them. BUT...I initially....and maybe still do...owned BMW bikes for only a few reasons:
(1) They were extremely reliable (compared to others back then)......and easy to maintain (don't get me started on maintaining my K1100LT...ugggghhh).
(2) They were 'different'.
(3) They were very comfortable on LONG trips.
(4) They were QUIET! 
(5) Things did not vibrate off them alongside the road.

I dabbled in Ham Radio for a considerable period of time.  My exploits in that arena would make for a chapter of its own.  I had a Ham Radio station at my home...and....on one of my BMW bikes.   Two very huge antennas, dynamotors for power, car battery. 

I became a fair wrench on bikes and cars/trucks; and, truthfully, I had always had a knack for mechanical things, having spent a lot of my pre-teens and teens years 'analyzing what it took to break things.'   Early-on, I worked part time at two BMW dealerships.   Old gray-haired guys reading this may remember me at Winkleman's BMW. Although it was part-time, I became and WAS the chief technician; and, was doing part time advisory things for other dealerships.   In various capacities I was seen around Browns BMW and Marty's BMW.   UNfortunately, I never arranged it so that I could attend Butler & Smiths (or, later, BMW's own) schools.   It was many years later that I first met and became friends with OAK (Orlando Okleshen), and many years after that I met Tom Cutter....at the Spokane BMW National Rally in 2004, when we were all teaching Seminars.  Still haven't met Ted Porter, although I highly respect his work.   I know maybe a couple dozen 'good' BMW mechanics. This group includes such as Bob Clement and Matt Parkhouse.

At one time, when still a late teenager, and well beyond, I audited a number of classes at UCLA. That was when I was also taking regular classes.  I arranged to do so, by getting involved with an older women, who I've mentioned far earlier in this lengthy piece you are reading...she really wanted me to be her 'houseboy'...her bed-pet, and she was a crazy Astrologist...who actually taught such classes at UCLA.  I used her for access/influence, and she used me.    You fill in the blanks.  

Over my life I have found myself in need of certain skills now and then.    I apprenticed myself for a day to a week+, to whomever had skills that I wanted, finding that method VASTLY faster than going to some sort of trades' school classes (although I did that for some things).    That apprenticing of myself continued for decades, as I was never too proud to do so, and learned much.    I actually have done very short stints of apprenticing recently.  

   I shagged blueprints to earn money; and also worked, part-time as noted, at Winkleman's and other dealerships.  There was more than one occasion when I was paid cash by someone at a dealership to solve a knotty problem.   

 During one 4 year period of time I averaged 160 miles a day on a white R60/2 motorcycle....that mileage really added up.  I was VERY adept at changing tires, adjusting valves, ETC.  Not to mention removing crankshafts for cleaning oil slingers.

Backtracking in time, again....
In my high school freshman year, in the afternoons after school, I worked at an uncle's wholesale paper company.    My dad  was in business with him at that time,....and I received an education in business practices.  I would sometimes walk from school to that business, or use a bicycle, or whatever vehicle I had running.    This uncle had, supposedly, a background at the IRS, and rumors in the family were that he'd been with the FBI.   I was constantly pumping my uncle for information. I well remember a long conversation about the workings of the State Board of Equalization,...not to mention the IRS.   I got a cynical picture of things governmental.  I started getting larger arm muscles from all the lifting of heavy rolls of butcher paper. I started lifting things using only my biceps, when I could.  I noticed the effect big biceps had on other folks, particularly when I wore the then scandalous attire, nowadays called a muscle-T shirt.  I had a strange body.  I still ran, not in marathons, they were not popular then, well, not much....but I liked to run on a track regularly.  I also got a somewhat perverse pleasure in developing that strange body, and I worked at it.    I never got over 5' 10-1/2", and I was small, almost skinny, but had rather out-of-proportion biceps and leg muscles...and, per one girlfriend, a 'cute butt'.  My 'fashion consciousness', however, was not much.  I guess THAT has continued.  

    In those early days I usually managed to find T-shirts tight enough in the "boy's" section of stores, and I would cut off the short sleeves, or otherwise modify them. I had a vast array of these, in various colors and designs.  Of my shirts, some had names of a gym or boxing club on them.  They were gifts from guys at those Clubs, they would purchase one for their kid, and now and then an extra one for me.   I fit into them fine, until many years later when I started pumping iron seriously, and my chest grew too much to fit those shirts.     There were maybe three of these REAL gyms in all of Los Angeles County back then. I eventually trained at the original Vic Tanney's in Santa Monica...and Vic himself gave me my membership, this was LONG before 'gyms' became anything like what they are today. This was long before Vic became an Icon, and expanded all over the country.    If my dad had ever found out about this, he would have gone nuts.   'Gyms' THEN were sweaty, smelly places, where hirsute-bodied MEN with short haircuts WORKED-OUT by pumping iron, and boxed.   There was a totally UNdeserved bad reputation for these places...probably the mainstream culture thought that these folks were beneath them...or, perhaps, were secretly afraid of muscular men.  I think the public lumped gyms with pool halls (yep, those were bad places back then).    I think some of the public were actually afraid of men in good condition, and hardly understood that these guys were, inside, extremely sweet, gentle and kind.   No false Machismo here.  They were not afraid of anyone, did not have to show off, and most all had a very satisfying family life...wife, kids, house, the usual.  They also did not take steroids; and, thusly, did not fly off the handle and get suddenly angry and violent.  We did not have million dollar a month sports players either.     In those days, not a big bunch was known about diet, vitamins, etc., so the men were generally not as hugely muscular as today's bodybuilders.....although there were some exceptions.   Some of us hung around Muscle Beach, in Venice, CA (lower Santa Monica beach area), showing off.  Typical Southern California sun and fun.

    There were NO aerobics, jazzercise classes nor juice bars.  A fancy 'machine' might have been the small bag or some weird rowing contraption.  I was all of maybe 135 pounds then.  In fact, I never bulked up very much until I entered our Government's employment, and managed to hit 178.  At my present age I can't keep that weight and look good nor be healthy, so I am now down to, and keep my weight constant at about 152.   But, way back then I had a strange body for my size...and even somewhat later.  I had large calf muscles and biceps, no chest to speak of...that pretty much continued for a long time.   My chest actually never started to expand much until I started exercising at a much older age ....on some good gym machines and with free-weights....and I was about 40 then!  I went up 2 inches in one year, then it tapered off.  Never did get really big though.     I THINK that is because as I was growing up I never did more than quick sprints or other types of things that never required much lengthy huffing and puffing. Remember, my eyesight was such that oncoming balls was not often caught by me.   Amazing that I managed to get through BT.   

In my early pre-teen and teen years, the Beat Generation years, I hung out at Venice Beach, next to Ocean Park as mentioned previously, where my father and his cousin had an upholstery shop.  I met lots of the poets and philosophers, artists, and other assorted low-life's of the day. Later on, I met a lot of the muscle-men who more and more frequented Venice Beach. See paragraphs above.   Try as I did, I never bulked up enough to emulate any of them.   Sometime in the later 1970's, after moving to Tahoe, I got back into the gym scene again, after having maybe a decade of sloughing off.    Until about May 2003 I was an almost daily gym rat, I still try for that schedule (failing almost all the time to go often enough), and still have a trim body for my age.   The problem with one's body...and getting older...is that it takes more and more gym time, and a more and more restrictive diet, to maintain that body.  I am unwilling to devote enough time...and I have noticed that if I only go to the gym only once or twice a week, and indulge in sweets and fattening foods, I look awful (well, to ME). I NEED to be at the gym 5 days a week, for an hour each time. Haven't managed to do that in awhile.    The gym time and other exercise not only makes me look good, but, more importantly, I feel better mentally and physically, and my cholesterol, blood pressure, etc., is a lot better.  I'm still an active Member of a local small gym at Tahoe and I used to be a member of the 24 hour gym chain, for when I traveled.    I like to watch the trim women at the gym.   They are NOT ALL really young, either.   I certainly DO appreciate a somewhat muscular, in-shape, older woman.  I've been known to watch a few of the men, too, and see what type of progress they are making.

The last few years  I have noticed that I have had to exert more and more effort to horse around motorcycles and other heavier things, and with my bad back, I finally had to start being very careful about lifting heavy things.      I had a tendency, per the family doctor....to get double inguinal hernias....I did not want to get that condition to worsen, which would require surgery....but, that surgery happened anyway, in November 2003.  Interestingly, the surgeon was a long-time Navy Doctor, whom I had known from Camp Pendleton,... now in private practice, and he did an outstanding job on me. I am now blessed with internal bionic plastic mesh gauze with Gore-Tex backing in two places, and should never have any problems again, no matter how much weight I might want to lift.   Doctor says better than new.  I look in the mirror and do not see new, just older.  Amazingly, the scars left from that surgery are not really noticeable.  No stitches...they used a medical form of Crazy Glue.  That did NOT fix my back, however...and my discs have degenerated a lot, and I am 3-1/2 inches shorter than I was some decades ago.  Hopefully that has stabilized now.  I do have back problems now and then.  

 From an early age, right up to the present, I have been a voracious reader....and was reading the Classics by the 9th grade, and not much later, I was reading vast quantities of technical books.   Foreign languages I struggled with, never did become really fluent in any.   I used to practice my High School Spanish when I would travel to Baja or Mexico, but today, any Spanish is a few words now and then. I likely will take some Spanish courses in the near future.    I wouldn't mind learning a bit of Japanese, either.   I seldom read novels, never read too many, mostly read the so-called Classics. I did like Science Fiction though.   Nowadays I read a lot on the Internet...where News is available from around the world from many sources, and I read  technical and other magazines....and the local newspapers.  I always did keep up with local, regional, and national politics.     But, now and then I will read another Classic.  I wrote some SF articles/stories. Some got published. One is on this website.    Been a LONG time since I read any.  

Most of my twenty-ish friends were budding Democrats or Socialists (or worse, a few were Republicans!). Always wanting to side with the weird, I registered as a Republican, and mostly kept that, although I have been an Independent and a Democrat.  My voting has usually had little to do with Party and labels.   I still think politics is laughable.  So is life.  I have always voted.  My tendencies are to vote conservatively on fiscal matters, and liberally on social matters.   I think the far right, and the far left, generally worth their ridicule.   I am probably somewhat more a Libertarian, I guess.

   I grew up generally having an intense curiosity about everything.  The 1960's was a time for every type of weird 'left-bank' type person.   L.A. was into self-actualization and 'fix me' (and folks who fixed those folks mental problems, for $ or?) folks.   I joined a commune (was in three overall, eventually, for short periods) and lived and taught courses in money, jealousy, sex, and generally on controlling folks, to a succession of rubes, who needed to part with their money in order to be able to 'hear the truth' about anything.  "Truth" to ME was, and still is, jazz terminology. 

 A boyhood friend, Ed, and I,  made friends with Ed Kolpin and helped his business by purchasing tobacco and smoking pipes.   We liked good tobacco.     Never hardly ever inhaled the stuff, but liked the taste/smell.   We helped Ed run Tinder Box #1 and then open Tinder Box #2, which turned into a chain that his boys took over, years later. I attained a life-long appreciation of good tobacco and good cigars.   Nowadays, I have lost nearly all of my taste for smoking, but I still have a rare pipe or cigar....but it is quite rare.  I think I probably don't smoke more than a half dozen a year....and always OUTside the house.  I am also only too well aware that no one, including ME, likes to be near a smoker, who stinks of stale tobacco.   I won't let anyone, including myself, smoke inside my house.

I took piano lessons when in my teens, pumped iron at the gym, and continued to do some wrestling, then gave up boxing and wrestling; and, for a long long time I played 'kid' with budding musclemen and boxers at that old, sweaty, smelly, dirty, original, Vic Tanny's basement Gym in Santa Monica. I hated it when that gym closed. As mentioned, Vic himself had given me a life membership. I hated it for two reasons, the first because of the inconvenience of traveling to the new foo-foo gym I now attended (foo foos came into being just prior to Vic's place closing), and for which I eventually substituted a variety of places, and the second reason was because I now had to spend MY money for my gym time, or whatever the place was, and most of the guys at Vic's basement boxing gym did not go to modern gyms, nor BSA nor YMCA places.  UCLA had a fledgling gym though.    I remained friends with a few of the guys for many decades.   I came close to entering a body-building contest when I was rather a lot older...this must have been around 1998 or so....never did, the diet restrictions were awful.

In a way, I miss the guys and 'the scene' in those old gyms...but, in truth, today's gyms and the available specialty foods are FAR better, in every way.  Gym's now have carpets and showers that are clean and actually work (usually). That was primarily done to grab the businessman and WOMEN.   But these gyms are often filled with older graying folks trying to maintain...or attain...some sort of shape.... or other.  Some of the girls (and young men) look very good, but they seem to be getting younger, GETTING VASTLY YOUNGER. I spend time every visit, seeing if that trend has continued.  ....one should keep up with trends, trying as that may be.    It also gives me a bit of a push towards watching my own diet and exercise program a bit more.  I have not yet reached the point of giving up to total sloth.

SO; I hated not being 'the kid'...that those old-fashioned gym type guys acted like gruff dad's to.  I hated 'really' growing up.  In SOME respects.  

I did find one person who meant a lot to me, the father of a close friend.  He was a  Marine Colonel.  He was direct, honest, a stand-up kind of guy.  I looked up to him.  A lot.   I thought his manly qualities were to be emulated.   He knew instinctively, or more likely from lots of practice, about mistakes, life, whatever,,,,, exactly when to be soft and vulnerable; when to be hard as nails; when to be 'understanding'; when to reveal if he was smart or not; and he was a very loving husband and father.   He knew what it meant to be a man, not a mouse, yet he knew when vulnerability, softness and loving kindness was appropriate.   He was also a true gentleman.  Perhaps in some other life I will be able to come close to what he was.  I try to emulate him when I feel up to it.    I particularly liked the movie An Officer and a Gentleman.   I always hoped to find the right women whom I loved greatly, and to play the lead type of role in that movie, in real life.   Hopeless Romantic in some ways.

I studied a lot on my own at various times, and this has continued throughout my life.  In particular one of those times was during the late 1980's to about 1991 (I had a new fresh 'government' situation, in which I had a LOT of free time).  It was not necessarily a very pleasant time.   I studied law for awhile, for curiosity and a modicum of knowledge.  I also studied a LOT...intensely... about world religions. I found them fascinating. Well, I found the HISTORY fascinating.  The book learning did NOT make me religious.  I learned WAY too much about the Greeks and Egyptians....Horus, Osiris, etc.    Makes for problems with Christian's relationships sometimes, ....with those who are BELIEVERS....and who refuse to recognize that many of their beliefs in 'historical' happenings, actually came from hundreds and thousands of years earlier.  Best to keep my mouth shut.

 My parents originally wanted me to be a Doctor. I wanted to be an engineer. My parents said they would settle for my being a concert pianist. I wanted to be an engineer. They offered to pay for advanced piano lessons. I said I wanted to be an engineer. They said;... well, I did not listen.  Things got more intense when I did my first...and last.... public piano recital at the Santa Monica Civic Auditorium...in1955 I think it was.  The program was 100% classical music.   I did an encore.... of a personal jazz composition (I composed it) that was something like 'Turned-On Bach, a-la Dave Brubeck'.  My piano teacher, very traditional and strict, went nuts.   I told my parents I would settle for an apartment and paid education and piano instruction at Julliard.  With the enormous cost of that in their minds, we compromised by having me attain an emancipated juvenile status in Kalifornica and becoming an electrical engineering student at UCLA. I moved out (more than once), in my teens. Once this was a bit earlier (by 2 weeks) than I had planned....my planning was upset by having a physical altercation with my brother. I do not remember why. My parents did not approve of that. My brother and I made up about 40 years later. He is still exasperating and sometimes terribly boring. I think his social skills are a couple of levels below mine, and mine are just plain horrid. Still. Maybe. Maybe not.  I am not a good judge.

I had been a fairly rebellious kid...that was NOT common in those days...and by the time I was in high school I was enjoying quite a split personality...one part was the getting into every type of kids' troubles, the other part was the oh-so-serious student of everything...and I mean EVERYthing. I would jump into something, try to master it....at least to the PRACTICAL usage point, then try something new. Great substitute for not catching balls. Never a dull moment. Some of my going out on my own, becoming 'emancipated'...might...just might...have been due to my having 7 motorcycles in my folks garage...and my dad HATED motorcycles. He was also afraid of flying. Intensely afraid. Funny...everything my father hated, disliked, or was somehow against....well, nearly....I managed to enjoy...hmmm.    Maybe some day I will ponder upon that more.   Likely not.

I did, of course, become an engineer.  Electrical & Electronics Engineer.  I was even admitted as a Member in the Institute of Radio Engineers, in 1961...the IRE, which became the IEEE.   I became not only an engineer, but a Agency troubleshooter.

    The Agency (I eventually worked for two), via the military, offered to pay for an advanced degree, and some very specialized 'education'.  That was nice.  But, these folks also wanted me to keep hidden who I was, and so on...and ON.  My own family and friends knew zilch about all this.   I was almost Mr. X at college.  I once tried to get a copy of my records.  What a hassle!...had to go through the government!    I also went to a lot of short term 'schools'; even took extra courses at City Colleges, even two at Trade Tech; and numerous seminars and such.  All this time I still had that electronics repair business of mine (since a teenager, and still have it), my mechanical interests, and wanted to keep up with things.   The Agency was very interested in someone with a really big and varied background in many things.  

 My electronics repair business, which I have had, even when in the Service, even when working as an engineer for others, has been a Warranty Station for many brands, such as Sony, Fisher, Sanyo, Fender Instruments;....etc.    Today that business is down to very part-time, is now in my garage, and I am a Warranty Repair Station for only a few brands, mostly musician's electronics.  I use the very small income to pay for frills, occasionally some thrills.   I don't advertise the business any more, and have pretty much let it slide ...and work very little at it nowadays....preferring my various hobbies.

    Way back when, I obtained HAM licenses, Radiotelephone licenses and endorsements, all sorts of licensing and certifications.  I even got Coast Guard type training.  I had Competitor's licenses.     I could cover some walls with these pieces of paper.  Some I treasure, some I don't much care about.   Some I can't even display nor discuss.  I worked for Douglas,  Stoddart,  Hughes,  RadioPlane, and Telemeter Magnetics.  Then came Linear Corp.

   I managed to get a few patents, worthy for talk, not money.  I got myself published for Electronics things, as well as some forms of instrumentation...heck, even some things on motorcycles.  I think I mostly treasure the off-beat articles I managed to get into some strange publications.....Chick Young illustrated with cartoons one of my off-the-wall articles.  I wrote under a few pen-names for some bike magazines.

Somewhat before the 'Bay of Pigs' time, a friend who taught helicopter flying at Ft. Wolters, took me up in his T-28. It took me bare seconds to get hooked.  That was the first airplane I had ever been in.   Yep, not even a commercial flight before that.   I started flight lessons immediately (NEXT DAY!!) at Santa Monica Airport, for fun. BUT....it soon became apparent that this was NO short-term apprenticeship this time...nope.....I dove into the learning process with both hands and feet (and sometimes my head followed those).   Usually I managed to keep my feet out of my mouth.  I ended up with a whole bunch of flying certifications ("licenses"), such as commercial pilot, multi-engine, instrument, instructor, seaplane....etc.   I actually went all the way in this schooling area and became a truly quite good and competent pilot (I honestly WAS a very good pilot).   I was a Member of the original Baja Bush Pilots International, and I have owned a few airplanes over the years.   In the Service, and for the Agency, I flew some interesting situations.   I cannot presently afford to own a plane.  Actually I COULD, but don't want the constant financial drain.   I usually beg a ride or rent one.  It is a LOT of fun to play wistful at a small country airport whilst touring on one of my bikes; maybe even getting a free ride.  I used to fly now and then, renting small propeller planes. Since 2003 I have been pretty inactive as a pilot.   I no longer have flight privileges with the military. I am sure they are happy about that.   I am not.   I had some fun with the Blue Angels one weekend, .... another fine story to tell some time.

  Backtracking:     I bought a brand-new 1968 VW Squareback ...it had the first electronic fuel injection that was available on any popular vehicle. I found interesting ways of defeating or modifying things in its Black Box. I found the electronics interesting, but not overwhelming.  I used my knowledge of its F.I. to add such to a R75/5, with a hidden supercharger.

 I had owned and tinkered with a long list of interesting vehicles by the time I moved to Lake Tahoe at the end of 1973.   While at Tahoe, in the early 1980's, I purchased a beat up 1968 Dodge Power Wagon.  I was very fond of it....and I restored it, with extensive modifications, such as a gas guzzling hopped up 440 engine. I sold it March 31, 2003.....too much constant tinkering with it, time to get more reliability and a conventional vehicle.  (a Miata!!).     When I started on that Dodge project, always being the practical person (?), I bought into a gas station.  That is, I loaned the owner a lot of money, for which he paid me monthly interest at a high rate...when I could catch him.    He ran a Ponzi scheme, then killed himself, I think he was murdered actually.  I lost all the principal amount of the money.  So much for early retirement.  The owner had a used car business.....he paid me to handle the registration and other paperwork.  I got good enough at that.....and familiar enough with all the folks at the DMV office......that I got a reputation...and started doing that same sort of paperwork, for a price, for other dealerships.  I quit that, long ago.

I had more than a couple of logbooks full of flight hours...and my dad had died..... before my mother felt it was OK to go flying with me. I still cherish that flight with her. At Tahoe. Over the Sierras. She had a grin from one ear to the other, until she fell asleep from the altitude she was not used to.  She was in her seventies.  My brother was along. He was white as a sheet. Maybe he wasn't.  I offered to take him up in the Pitts aerobatic plane after we landed (we were in my Cessna 182). He wisely declined. I hated cleaning-up vomit anyway. 

When I was very young, maybe 2 to 4 years old (I don't remember exactly!), I lived over a bakery. The bakery, which specialized in premium pastries for the best restaurants and hotels, was owned and operated by my grandparents. At that young age, I learned something about premium pastries. I also learned about EATING them!    I actually became a fairly good cook/chef  later on in life.     Back in those early years I learned about fresh baked goods, minutes old, every morning with breakfast. Strange then, that my father would go to work for a baking company...that made, generally, products of only fair to better quality for the masses. My father was some sort of executive at the National Biscuit Company (Nabisco now)...and gave me, when I was perhaps almost a teenager, inadvertently, quite unknown to him, an education on money, power, and corporate policy-making. He also brought home "samplers" that Nabisco made for its executives. These premium items were not available in stores. They were not like my grandparents pastries from many earlier years, but very acceptable to kids...including my friends.   Today I can instantly tell a good pastry from a poor one.   

I grew up living in West Los Angeles.   I still remember 'the red cars'....the passenger train...almost a high speed trolley...that traveled at a goodly speed, from the 'station' nearest our home.....Exposition Blvd at Sepulveda Blvd, south of Pico Blvd.......to 'Downtown'.    In the mornings my dad would walk two blocks to get on it....and it sped to near 7th and Mateo, downtown L.A....where he worked at the National Biscuit Company.   It was just about the last train-type transportation in that area....the tracks being torn up elsewhere's, except for freight tracks......rumors had it that Texaco and Standard Oil (Chevron now) were the culprits.

Later on, in a fit of pique over some nothingness (I think), my father quit Nabisco, weeks short of a 20 year retirement, and opened that upholstery shop in Venice, with a distant cousin.   What I remember most about cousin Sol were TWO things.  FIRST, he had spent a lifetime cutting upholstery materials, and in shaking hands with him, his hands were so muscular that he could crush your bones.  Second, I had my own crush problem....a simply terrible crush on his daughter, Miriam.    THAT did not work out, although we did go out some.  Eventually Dad  sold the shop to Sol, and went to work as General Manager at the Lindy Pen Co.  Ballpoint pens were a big time novelty then. Lindy was #2.  Lindy's brother (Lindenbaum was the actual name) owned a jewelry store.  I learned something about jewelry.  I also learned about Swiss machinery used in making ball-point pens. I learned that no matter how tiny it was, the Swiss could figure out a way to make it smaller, more precise, better.  

I mentioned earlier that over many years l apprenticed myself for short periods with a fair number of folks that did things like machining, welding, metal working, motorcycle repairing, etc. I had a fascination with the old-world idea of apprenticeship, but I was in a terrific hurry.  I certainly did NOT want to spend YEARS studying just one Trade.  I wanted immediate, fast BASIC knowledge; in many trades.   I never got into woodworking though....I sure wish I had!    Yep....quickie and quirky apprenticeships. I found ways of getting those short apprenticeships and often getting paid a little bit.  During this time I had various competition licenses and approvals, which I exercised.   I LOVED motorcycle racing of every type.  I liked weekend hill climbs on Lankersheim, the track in Gardena, road racing at Riverside, Pomona, Willow Springs......etc.  I also developed a real liking for cross country riding, such as the Baja races, and the Barstow-Baker-Vegas (we had OTHER names for THAT).  I purchased a new BMW 600, the cheaply priced and slightly larger version of the BMW Isetta teeny-car.  Front opening door.   Going to work one day, someone ran a stop sign, totalled the car, broke some of my ribs.   Car got repaired, insurance company insisted.  Traded car for BMW motorcycle with 560 miles on it!....AND he gave me some cash too!.....outrageous deal! 

I always had a car, sometimes a sports car. I found that girls LIKED guys, or at least liked to be SEEN with them, even those with dirty, greasy hands and fingernails, who had a sports car. Some guys loved to be in my cars too.   To have a SPORTS CAR was, well, obviously you had very rich parents.   My favorite time in cars was driving a sports car with the top down...and resting my left bicep on the top of the door, in such a fashion that my already oversized biceps looked huge.   I had a very perverse sense of humor, and would watch girls, and guys, eyes, as they looked, and tried not to show they looked.  ME BAD!

 I did NOT have rich parents. I did not need rich parents. I made good money. I could purchase a new sports car with the profits from a load of RCA color TV sales.  Much earlier I had purchased a brand-new Jeep using my 'wages' at the after-school warehouse job ($1.20 an hour).   Later I purchased a well-used 49 Ford Business Coupe. I built the flathead V-8 engine to the max., getting nearly 300 hp out of its supercharged engine.  The car went nicely, it was grossly stripped to reduce weight. I took hundreds of pound of weight out of that already light car. Navarro custom made me the heads, Joe Hunt gave me the magneto, and some other names of the day, Ed Iskendarian, Vic Edelbrock, ETC.... gave me some other race parts. Yep, GAVE me.   It was fun to drive...but no place for a passenger. The only seat was an 18 (I think) pound magnesium seat from, if I remember right, an F86.  I got tired of that car, sold it, built up a 52 MG-TD with that same engine, and had lots more fun. Having 300 hp in a light weight MG was REALLY exciting.   I well remember the effect a Morgan, MG, Triumph, or my Porsche 550RS1500 (yes, the same as the James Dean car) had on some of my 'friends'. Years later, much better read and wiser (?), I understood more about such friends, and about MYSELF for having those THINGS, and those types of friends.   My Alfa Sprint Specialé, only a few were ever made, was a particular favorite....a real Ferrari-look, and performed well.   My wife and I looked terrific in that car.  We looked even better in the 550RS1500.

One of my closest acquaintances was Art Gerrick.  Art lived about a mile from me, and taught me a lot, and I hung out with him at his shop for many hours at a time.  It was Art that, unbeknownst to him at the time, taught me about fine mechanical craftsmanship.   Art had a 28 Essex-frame with a T engine that was Rajo equipped, 21.5 CR, alcohol burning, what we called a Lakes Car.  He was a TRUE old-time MASTER mechanic.    That I was not with him at his death-bed...and the same for old friend, Donny Vesco, will haunt me forever.  Mostly this was because after I moved to Lake Tahoe in 1973, I rapidly...way too rapidly....stopped staying in touch with many folks, including my own relatives.  Of course, they did the same back to me.  Out of sight, Out of Mind.  Maybe it was 'good riddance.'

After moving to Lake Tahoe, I begin to get more seriously into outdoors things...backpacking in particular.  I also began to shape up again.  I was watching my foods, and getting exercise.  It was good for me.   I had a lot of energy, and used it constantly.  I still watch the types of foods I eat.   I like all sorts of ethnic foods, and I like the taste of foods that are called healthy....I liked them LONG before it became fashionable.   I, unfortunately, also like sweets, especially chocolate and pastries.   I am the DEVIL at a casino buffet....OK, not a devil, I am a GLUTTON!  Well, I used to be a glutton, now I am down to simply eating a bit too much.

 In my young days in Los Angeles, I was studying electronics, mathematics, physics, chemistry, ...and trying to study girls.  With a minor in motorcycles and race cars. No matter how much studying, never understood women. Or girls. Still don't. Actually, to be really truthful, I DO understand them, they don't understand ME!   Then, again, maybe they DO understand me!  For sure my wife Penny understands me pretty darn good.  We have a GREAT relationship, stemming from a very seriously deep love for each other.  I am very appreciate of Penny, and really try to be kind, caring, and a quality husband.

Let's backtrack again....a lot...
  I drove some interesting cars for awhile...as I sometimes managed the use of an occasional car from some of the several dealerships I was doing things for.    I was re-introduced to Pellandini, for whom I was now a paid!! race-driver.   I purchased a brand new Alfa Sprint Speciale'....A Bertone bodied mini-Ferrari.  Bright Red.  Of Course!   I began to take an interest in a girl who worked at one of these dealerships. Being INTERESTED did NOT mean I was dating her. Frankly, I was actually truly and suddenly smitten, this was one educated, smart (MENSA), sassy and an interesting woman, ...and I plotted and plotted. In awhile she....horrors upon horrors...went to work for a Citroen dealer, doing registrations.  Unfortunately, she was dating a friend of mine!  HE had to go...and hopefully kept as my friend.   But...HOW?  I learned. Well, maybe not...  it wasn't pretty.   I learned some about dealers, their shenanigans, paperwork, and more dealer shenanigans.  I learned LOTS more of this, in much greater detail, later, at Tahoe, when I worked part-time for a friend in the used-car business, doing registrations.  

  In any event, way back then, 'She' left for a Honda motorcycle dealership. I decided to work for the same Dealership, part-time, as a salesman.  Can't imagine why I would want to do that (perhaps YOU do). The Honda 750 was about to be introduced. BIG deal that was going to be. The 'You Meet The Nicest People On A Honda' was in full swing. I could not get her out of my mind. I thought about her even when I was selling a motorcycle to one of the Beach Boys, and she was out of sight in the Office. It got worse. I was definitely hooked. I had to get rid of her boyfriend, my friend, that she was involved with. I decided the direct approach was THE answer.   He and I had a 'little talk'.   We remained sort-of-friends...at a distance...for awhile.   I found out years later that he told someone that he thought I would rip him a new one if he even looked at her cross-eyed. He was right.   He was bigger than I was.  No matter.

I even took over the lease on HIS bachelor apartment, in a MOST unusual movie-set looking building, now one of those historic buildings type of places, and moved him out permanently. I began to date, well, chased her, until she caught me. We divorced a long time ago, we were both too immature at that time......eventually we became friendly, of a sort.    We see each other maybe a few times a year...Penny and I run into her at one of the Old Estates (Valhalla) at Tahoe; where she plays blacksmith (yes, really!).  Hard to live with a Mensa type, actually.   I am sure she felt the same about me.  If we had both been more mature, we'd likely still be married.   She lives at Lake Tahoe (daughter and son are out of college and on their own).  I married again, later, to my old boyhood friend Ed's half-sister.   We were divorced around 1990 or so.  SHE lives with my first wife!!!  I stayed a bachelor for many years after that divorce.  

I don't expect to ever have any new "ex-wives", because I am vastly more willing to be a good husband, and know how to be.   Penny reaps the benefit of all my mistakes and learning.  I sure hope I am correct in that.

Expanding upon the previous; .....while at the Honda Dealership, the Honda 750 came out.   One of my earliest sales of that model was to 'The' Beach Boy, Brian. Wife-to-be and I got invited to one of their private parties. They found out I had a solid electronics background, knew and understood Club Sound, which led to all sorts of work for musicians. I met the Monkeys, sold a bike, partied at their place in Laurel Canyon. I worked with the Jefferson Airplanes.  I started to get a reputation as someone who knew musician's sound and equipment and I learned a fair amount about Moog electronics, which came in handy.  In those years, there were NO huge high powered outdoors audio equipment items that one could purchase from a store, so I designed and built some of them.    I became a warranty station for Moog.  I purchased the last Porsche Speedster ever made from Vasek Polak, a 1958 with many factory trick goodies. I won the first race I entered with it.  I did not care, I had beaten Phil, whom I considered my personal rival...that was ALL I cared about. I sold some more Honda's to entertainment industry folks. I found THAT type of sale to be surprisingly easy. NEVER figured out why the other sales folks did not catch on. For ME, I was sure why....I was not overwhelmed by show biz folks, never ever in awe.    I also found show-folks super vulnerable to the correct sales approach....homey, friendly, never ever pushy to buy something......lets party, if ya wanna bike, we can talk, if not, I don't care if you don't care; heck, let's party....

As for the Honda's that my first wife and I rode.....   She still has hers. She has Ed's 450 too. They had not been ridden in decades.  I found out that she is had them rebuilt  in 2005, and probably will ride one and give the kids the other, or somesuch.    I used one of my small Honda's as my pit bike at Bonneville in 1971, my 'helpers' were the two owner's, and an employee, of Linear Corp, where I was Chief Engineer.  

OH....that first ex-wife:  about her 2nd Husband, my old friend Ed from my teen years, .......Ed killed himself.  He took a lot of years getting around to doing that.  

 I did not.

In August of 2005 I lucked out, and I both THINK/KNOW/FEEL, that I met and HAVE the right woman for the rest of my life.    Before she found me (yes, that is how it happened), I had decided, after trying some Internet Dating,  to just stay a bachelor and play with my motorcycles and other toys.   I had spent most of my life, up until that time, in indulging ME, and not in the best relationships.   I matured a whole bunch though.    I think Penny and I both figured out rather early in our relationship that we were meant for each other.   Surely I was super happy and our love continued to deepen.   I had the opportunity to go on a mostly free 2 week vacation, touring the Norwegian Fjords, etc., on a ferry ship, and promised her I would DECIDE about proposing, after my return in very early July 2006.  My perverse intention was to drag the Proposal out for a couple of weeks after that trip, just Mr. Perverse, riiiight?        But, I was worried she'd 'get away', and I really KNEW long before my Mid-June departure that I wanted to marry her.   So, after 10 months or so of dating, I proposed to Penny before that vacation, and have been VERY happy ever since she said YES. 

We were married at the end of September, 2006.  We arrived and departed the wedding and reception/picnic using my sidecar rig.    I've changed a fair amount since I met her. I've mellowed more.  I am a nicer person. I sometimes find myself going out of my way to do things to please her.    I'm not as selfish, nor as self-centered.   Strange how things sometimes happen.

****************************

Well, backtracking again...(I'm good at that here)....
While I was in high school and at UCLA, I guess I was 17 or 18, or some such, some of my older friends, at their advanced age of about 21-1/2, were being drafted. That was NOT my idea of fun. My close friend Bucky's 'Mr. Dad', mentioned earlier in the long piece, was a career officer, a Colonel in the Marine Corps.    They lived well in an exclusive upscale neighborhood. Bucky and I often went 'to play' on base. Under his father's detailed advice, I joined with a deferment, and then had to honor my commitment.  6 years they got me for. The first time. Surprisingly, for someone with as little seeming self-control...or discipline... I liked it.  I liked it a lot. In one weird way of thinking, Mr. Dad, and the Marine Corps, both became my surrogate fathers. Probably substitutes for the guys at that early gym. My own father and I were never close. 

  I stuck around. My parents knew ZERO about this. Wifey knew zilch.  My Dad would have been horrified.  I got some schooling paid for. I liked THAT. My parents knew ZERO about THAT, too.  It was kept secret, due to a couple of things I was involved with that required secrecy, the reason being that I was offered, later-on, through the CORPS,  attachment to an agency of our illustrious government, to work at the same time.....in civilian life... in electronics, as a combination of engineer, snoop, strange projects leader, etc. Mostly on rather delicate and secretive projects. Ah, the Intelligence community!   I received paychecks from both the civilian employer and the military.  Actually, I received a paycheck from the civilian employer, the other pay was drawable from a government account.  It took me 30 years and being passed over twice (yep, I sure shoulda quit after once, let alone twice) for full Bird, ....long story about why being passed over; my usual enthusiasm and big mouth did me in;....SO.... I finally decided The Service and I would no longer service each other.   Along the way I did some interesting flying jobs too.  Can't talk much about them, so won't.  I had been sworn to secrecy more than once, in several ways, besides the usual way, and became involved in some interesting 'work'.     No one that I knew outside of the Agency had any idea I was associated in any way. My father died several years before I was allowed to even vaguely mention some of my fun and games. My mother and brother never knew about any of it at all.  She died without any knowledge.   Brother Ken, still alive, 7 years my junior, still does not.   I don't think he ever found out I even went into the Service.  Then, again, he may know a lot more than I think he does.  To this day I have NOT discussed my Service time.   I have two close friends from the Viet Nam days.  We never discuss those times either.  I have NEVER figured out why some guys that were in the Service like to sit around the Legion Hall and drink beer and reminisce.  War is a PRIVATE PERSONAL MATTER.  I can totally assure you, that Intel is even more a private matter!

 I finally got rid of a number of items in my attic, that related to my time with the Agencies and the military. I do not miss these items, some of the memories I would prefer to forget. Some were ugly. Some were fun.  All were interesting.  One item, which I was given, as all Marines were,  I have kept, a treasured wee little thing....I have a sort of replica on one of my leather pants belts.   For the real, original, I will never give it away, nor sell it, nor will it to anyone.   It is a very personal  thing....it was ME.   SEMPER FI!

I still am a strong believer in Semper Fidelis.   BUT... I no longer sleep with a Gold Cup Colt 45 under my pillow. I don't have that nice little fragment of metal in my spine anymore, either. Unfortunately, the V.A. did not take the metal out, a doctor friend did, and I still suffer a bit, not too badly nowadays though, from the back problems it helped cause, and I have not so nice thoughts about the V.A.   I expect that, someday, my back will act up badly enough that I will have to stop riding solo motorcycles, maybe only sidecar rigs.  We shall see.  'They' said I'd be in a wheelchair, by age 40.  'They" were wrong....I am into my 70th year and still ride, with no big  problems.  I suspect I will be just fine....so long as I go to the gym, and do certain back exercises regularly.  I KNOW my lower back is weak, and it would not take much to do a LOT of damage.   I have what is called Degenerative Disc Disease.....I've shrunk, 3-1/2 inches of shrinking, and, well, my back can act up.

I mostly tried to retire in 1973 when I burned out in the corporate world side of my career, having reached the Prime Level of the Peter Principle...[rising to the highest level of my incompetence]. Along the way I had spent a fair amount of time on the staff of Stoddart, Ling-Tempco, Telemeter Magnetics [I'll bet you do not know about magnetic core computer memories...].    My time with Linear Corporation as their Chief Engineer was the ONLY adult job (outside of my own businesses) I ever held with no Agency involvement.    

I had been a staff engineer at Hughes Aviation and Hughes Aerospace; I also worked at Hughes Labs....and finally ended up, for a few years, as the mentioned Chief Engineer of Linear Corp. Did some consulting along the way. I loved Linear Corporation.  I liked the folks that worked there.  I liked my boss.  I should have stayed, they had promised me a Ferrari Daytona, just like my boss's.   Ah, well, my incompetence got the better of me.   My boss, the president, was a Ferrari nut case. He purchased his new Daytona, delivered via an airplane to the U.S., for $22,500.00. Worth at least 10 times that now.  Use to see some of these folks at the Virginia City 'hillclimbs'  ...a wee short exotic sports car show-off 'race' on a paved mountain road, in Nevada.  I understand they blamed ME for anything and everything, long after I left.  Then, again, that came from someone I used to know that I don't trust. I think he's dead.  Fine with me. My ex-boss started flying, he crashed the plane, killed his wife, married my then secretary.   hmmmm

Between my quitting at Linear, and leaving for Tahoe, I did electronics consulting work, disposed of my fleet of Vincents, various dirt bikes, cars, trucks, garage full of weird things such as my Norden Fuel Injectors and hopped up MG-TD;....just a lot of various time consuming projects went bye bye. I sold my airplane too, a Comanche 250.   Well after moving to Tahoe, after I built a few hangars in a commercial project at Carson City Airport, I began using one as a safe place to store some of my re-growing stable of antique bikes. I ended up with 52 at one point. They are gone. So is my mortgage. So is the money that paid for thousands of hours of paid flight in a variety of interesting craft.   I probably over-paid my second ex-wife, but that was a long time ago.     I purchased several airplanes during the many years here at Tahoe.    I had two Cessna 182's, a Twin Comanche, and a Pitts. I had an interest in a C-206 and a C-210.    I had a short term interest in a military jet.     I can't afford to own airplanes anymore, but I rent them, only rarely right now, as I've lost interest.  I could actually afford it, but they have a large regular monthly appetite for money, flying them or not, and I prefer to use the money for vacations and other niceties and frills of life.

Since the end of 1973 I have lived most of the time at my home at South Lake Tahoe, CA.  I rented a house here for 4 years, then bought this place when still married to Jean.   It was one of the smartest things I ever did, purchase this home.  Probably extra smart in keeping it as my share, when Jean and I divorced.      

 My nickname, 'Bob'  became "Blinky" to some few of my friends, originally coined by a fellow rider who was quite annoyed by my headlight modulator, that I designed and built. To keep him even happier, I also installed a commercially made headlight modulator on my other BMWs.    I owned several businesses. An aircraft radio sales-installation-repair did not work out.  I still have my childhood business: HiFi, musician's electronics, and industrial electronics repairs  (now located in my garage-shop).  I had a precision machine shop; and next door to it I had a motorcycle repair service, mostly doing custom BMW work, rather than mundane stuff.  I owned a few aircraft over the years, I also did a part time charter flight business, went back to work for The Agency on a couple of updated old projects, and a new one.   I am now completely separated from the Government.  I am not a welcome figure in some other Countries.  I had a truly bad experience with our government in the late 1980's, and it somewhat messed up my life for awhile.  It was due to my own stupidity, trusting someone I should not have trusted.   It is all mostly behind me now.  I still think about it.  

When I moved to Tahoe, it was actually, initially, on one of my R75/5 bikes.    On that trip, I found out, whilst camping in the mountains overnight,  that raccoons understand how to undo leather saddlebag straps, and are attracted to peanut butter cookies.   I've three nice Raccoon hats though!

 I have belonged to many organizations and clubs, quit most of them. I actually became a member of the local business and social community and groups.   I even mellowed, bit by bit, over the years.  I don't belong to hardly any local organizations now.

My most favorite dog, a Malamute, got cancer, and I had to put her down.  I have not allowed myself a dog of my own, since.  Maybe in the future.  I've been saying that for years now.

 In May of 2001 (or was it 2000?), I sold my touring motorcycle, a 1983 BMW R100RT.    I had purchased it brand-new in 1985 from a dealer-friend. My intention in 2001 (2000?) was to purchase (BMW said they would sell me the bike) a brand-new BMW Oilhead Police Bike.   I did not buy it, I got cold feet.  I finally just could NOT see myself on a HEAVY R1100RTP or; later, a R1150RTP.    A short while later I borrowed a 1970 R75/5 from a friend, with the agreement that I would restore it somewhat, and could ride it. It was that bike that I rode to the MOA National Rally, in Redmond Oregon, in July of 2001.  That R75/5 bike has since gone back to its owner. BUT....in the months of only that bike being ridden by me as I restored it, I re-acquired the airhead bug,,,BAD!!!   It had been a BAD mistake to sell my R100RT.     Luckily, the owner decided he was not an RT kinda guy, and contacted me.  I purchased back my old RT and converted it into a sidecar rig....riding it as a solo until the sidecar attachments were all completed and ready.  Along the way, I purchased another R100RT, a 1984, for a solo ride.  In late 2005 I added a K1100LT to my garage, with an attached EML GT2 sidecar.  I sold the R100RT with its sidecar, but it remained here until the owner picked it up in Spring of 2006.  In May of 2006 I 'visited' it, and Penny and I took a jaunt on it. I have kept the 1984 R100RT solo bike, and did a lot of work on it.   I had, some time ago, closed my Tahoe BMW and machine shop businesses.  I kept many of the special tools, and many small parts.  Some special BMW tools, by mistake, went with that machine shop, which is no longer here in this area....ah, well, things are replaceable.    When I sold the BMW shop, I disposed of a small warehouse of parts and assemblies.  I miss them.  My present fear, if I have any, is that it may not be too long before I won't be physically capable of properly riding a solo bike, and will have to sell the R100RT.
 
At Tahoe, MANY years ago, I devoted time to The Special Olympics which I found very rewarding. Around 1991 I began donating a fair amount of time to helping the local health department with cancer and AIDS patients, and I got into that charity work enough that I became the Chairman of the bi-county Consortium, which controlled Federal Ryan White funds. I met a lot of worthless politicos. I learned to get what I wanted from them.  I made a few new gay friends, none were HIV (AIDS) infected, and stayed that way.   I rented a room in my Tahoe home to sick (HIV infected) gays that I worked with, these were referred by the County Health Department.   I worked with very sick and dying cancer and AIDS clients for the Health Department for a long time.  Eventually, after some years, I burned out on the cancer and AIDS work, and Consortium, and just gave it all up.   

Around 1997 I decided that I had had enough of flaky or sick roommates, and in speaking about such to a friend, and noting I had an empty guest room, he suggested that Frank and I meet. Frank had been into,,,ugggh...politics all his life. Frank had been a Senatorial aide and 8 years as a city councilman at a city in the Bay area. Frank was retired, nearly 70 then, and a Southern Gentleman. He has a very fancy animal shelter and I think the police station civic building, all named for him in Antioch, California.   Surprisingly, we hit it off.  The friendship sort-of lasted until 2003.    I think Frank still owns a home in the Bay area, his sister lived there, that place was then convenient for me to borrow the couch if I was traveling to that area, usually with him to some concert or some such, and he used to stay once in awhile at my home in Tahoe, but now lives, I think, full time at the fair sized condo we purchased together at the end of 1998 in Palm Springs.  I spent one weekend at Frank's Bay area house installing all new hot water piping, doing about half the work, the plumber Frank hired at my suggestion came from Tahoe and did the rest, right alongside me.    I miss Jon Hashimoto....great honest decent man, and a terrific plumber too.   He died unexpectedly from a heart attack.  Too young.  Too nice a guy.

I spent a lot of every month for nearly two years, getting 'our' condo to where it was a true second home...but it is not mine anymore, not even a molecule anymore.  That is because Frank and I drifted widely apart, and things got pretty bad between us in 2003,... how nice...right during my two major surgeries whilst recuperating AT that condo.

After a lot of bad feelings, it was agreed that Frank would buy my much smaller share in the condo, and that I would be out of the condo early in 2004.  My original plans in getting the condo in the first place, besides it being a constant place for week long vacations, was that I could consider retiring there, selling out at Tahoe....but the condo had only a single car garage, hardly enough room for all my projects and workshop. I did think about renting a shop space in the area.   I had finally viewed the condo as an appreciating asset that would pay for a nice retirement.  That is now not to be.  

 I might not ever leave Tahoe.....I LOVE Tahoe.  Still....the thought of a gentleman's ranchette someplace....with huge workshop space; especially on a residential airpark;....hmmmmm....One never knows what life will bring.....the big thing is to remain open to new possibilities.   I traveled with Penny in May of 2006 to look at a home on a private grass airstrip in Oregon.  I liked the place, Penny did not (too isolated from any city for her....mostly I THINK, too far from her old friends)...the cost would have busted my financial situation.....and, one must also give in to one's future wife.....yep, I knew...., even before then, long before I proposed.

 During the early years of condo ownership with Frank, he tended to keep me somewhat sane and calm. This was a good thing, I think (I have been overwhelmingly assured of that need for sane and calmness by many of my friends). During most of my life, my tendency has been to act as if I ate amphetamines with every meal; but, in truth... sometimes I can be a bit gloomy or a bit moody...usually in the Winter though.   Sometimes I think I have a wee tendency towards manic-depression. Maybe a tad of depression in Winter is normal though.    I am hardly the intense live-wire these days that I was when much younger though.   I have slowed down.

     I tended to liven things up for Frank. That might be a polite way to say it.  I think I drove him nuts at times. Never a dull moment takes on new meanings.  I took Frank on two motorcycle rides, his first ever motorcycle ride was fairly long, it was in 1997.  He was in his seventies.  We ending up, after touring much of Yosemite, at the 23rd AMA District 36 Hey-Day Rally.  For two nights. In a tent. Over rocks. It drizzled a tad once.  The bathrooms were NOT across the room. There were NOISY motorcycles. Strange folk. Tattoos. He gave up on such insane hardship conditions shortly after that trip, and he made up for the conditions I put him through, by insisting I travel with him to New Orleans. The New Orleans Hilton is NOT a tent. Emeril's restaurant is NOT an A.M.A. barbecue. The French Quarter is NOT 'downtown' South Lake Tahoe. Just as well. I certainly liked that French Quarter. It was about the only reason I ventured outside into the heat and humidity. The only good thing about heat AND humidity together, is that there is not much of it in the WEST, and NOT at Tahoe.  I've always been exceptionally uncomfortable in high heat and humidity.    I was with Frank and at the hospital, when he suffered two heart attacks, the first was at Tahoe, and he ended up having multiple bypass surgery.   Although things were bitter between Frank and I by late 2003, I no longer harbor those feelings, more, I suspect, it is feelings of loss.   

Frank was with me, to comfort me too.    In late 1997, being a long time minor health and fitness nut, I was surprised one morning at my usual and customary gym workout to find my heart racing.  It would last a few seconds.  This came and went, sporadically, over maybe a few months.    Freaked me out.  I went to my doctor, and wore a monitor.  One day my HR went to 215 for a few seconds.   He prescribed a drug to control it, I did not like the side effects.   AND....pilots can't have heart problems and take drugs for it, without heavily dealing with the FAA.  I went to a specialist.   In June of 1998 I went to a hospital in Reno ...Frank drove me....to have a few inherited 'extra' nerves burned out in my heart.  Supraventricular Tachycardia they called my condition. Whole thing was done through a groin vein.  I was awake, fascinated at what was going on ..on the TV type monitor.   I was back at the gym in a few days.  The condition has not re-occurred.     I had a treadmill test in May of 2005.  They found nothing at all unusual or wrong, and thought I was in terrific shape.  Always nice to hear those words.  Bolsters one's ego.  However, my blood pressure had been going up, and when it is up, I can get headaches.  I am dealing with the BP, and a very low-dose of a drug, which I may even be able to quit, and exercise and diet seems to do the job.

 I mellowed in the last decade+; with my surgeries in 2003, my selling of my share of the condo to Frank, and generally retracting into some sort of Tahoe-guy, Tahoe-life.....whilst trying to decide on how I wanted to live the rest of my life.   For certain, I wanted to continue riding the bikes and doing other physical things...but found myself doing those things FAR less than I would like to, just do not feel like it as much as I did many years ago.....and have much less energy.  Luckily I recovered well from the two 2003 surgeries.   If I had not been in such good physical condition, things might have been vastly different.

Near the end of 2003, when, during my yearly Flight Physical, I reported to the Government that I'd previously had prostate cancer (the prostate surgery was May 2003).  Caused me to have to revert to a Third Class Medical Certification, not good for Commercial flying.  But, in January, 2005, I got my Commercial (2nd Class) back; kept it until 2007, when I needed my cataracts fixed; after which I could obtain the 2nd Class again.   The prostate is gone, so is every trace of any cancer; and, all testing, which I do very regularly, shows absolutely no sign of any recurrence.   I had been lucky, the luck helped along by my having regular yearly physicals and I always had PSA tests done, and I kept records.   When PSA started to rise, I personally caught that very early due to my meticulous record-keeping, and no cancer in the slightest was found outside of my prostate during the surgery.   I kept my erection nerves too (they work pretty good ....).   My PSA has remained at the lower limits that the machines can detect.  I consider myself cured.  I know a LOT about Prostate Cancer. I jumped into learning about it, in my usual intense fashion.  I know vastly more than most. More than many doctors.   I wrote an article on it, it is huge.  It is on the website you are reading.  I keep it up-to-date.

I still go to the gym, at the local one at Lake Tahoe where I am a Member, trying for every morning..yeah, sure, riiiiight!.  I have not been doing so good with 'every morning'.   In the first half of 2005, I traveled a fair amount, did not get enough exercise, and ate some lousy meals....and started looking sloppy, and found much less energy...so, now I went back to about 3 days a week. By the end of Summer 2007, I was there even more often.   Unfortunately, by 2008 I was slacking off again.  I don't work out a long time, usually an hour, but I do it steadily.     I work a bit some days that I am at Tahoe, in my electronics repair shop.  The income is small but it pays for some frills, and I have the ego satisfaction of doing something useful.  I have a considerable number of customers from years and years ago that would never think of going to anyone else.  I have the experience, the talent, and I do very high quality work.  My business is now primarily repairing musician's electronics, although I still do a bit of HiFi and Industrial.   I also collect Social Security, and have income from investments. My Marine pension goes to charity.   I sold or closed all the other businesses over a period of years.  I don't promote the electronics business any more;...no display advertisement in the Yellow Pages, as one example.  

My closest friend from the 'Nam days told me a few years ago that he wanted to build an airplane with my help....or we could build TWO at the same time.  That will never happen.  His two sons are my Godchildren (well, one is officially, but I regard both as Godchildren).   One son joined the Army National Guard, in 2007.   My bud was, for awhile, the Managing Editor of the Tahoe Daily Tribune.  He lives in Bakersfield nowadays....a nice...(well, reasonable)... place to visit, except in the Summertime, when it is very hot.  I don't handle high heat well.  I have mentioned THAT before.

I had my own mid-life crisis....and in early 2000 I purchased a new Mazda Miata sports car.   I dared not to drive it wearing a beret [even someone like myself has SOME standards]. I did try breaking in my new Schuberth motorcycle helmet. In the car. Top Down. Hard to break-in the helmet watching TV at home.

  In March of 2003, a couple months before my prostate surgery, needing to start making my life less hectic, fewer responsibilities, less outflow of money, and so on;....I sold the Dodge Power Wagon truck and my huge collection of parts for it; and the necessary constant messing-around with that truck;... and in November of 2003, right after my hernia surgery, I sold the Miata. Traded it to someone actually, and I now have just one cage, the 1997 Nissan Pathfinder 4 wheel drive; ....a nice vehicle, perfectly suitable for my present and likely future needs.  Older Pathfinders are one of the best SUV's, and not too big.  We have Penny's 94  2WD Subaru sedan too.  Those, the bicycles, the sidecar rig and the 2-wheeler....are what we have and use.

I still ski & hike once in awhile, play the piano a bit, ride bikes, and do all sorts of other stuff from the past, just less in quantity or amount.  I am getting slower, a bit forgetful, a bit tired, sometimes more than a bit lazy, etc...and do less.   I do not wrench for others anymore, maybe a few guru-minutes during an Airhead TechDay.  I will do a Technical Seminar once in awhile.   Didn't I just say that I am getting lazy?...heck, I am also getting more conservative; well, in a FEW ways.... I can't even remember the last time I rode over 150 mph (not true, I DO remember testing the VFR and especially the Hayabusa's, one of which was turbocharged). I can remember only a few times in the recent past where I purposely slid a motorcycle in a corner. I'm getting older.   I don't feel any need to show off my skills anymore.  I know what I can do, and did do, and I don't feel any need to demonstrate it to young punks...or even non-punks.  Even though my reflexes are still quite good, I am tapering off the aggressive stuff.  Well, mostly.    I am being more cautious and conservative about my motorcycle riding; perhaps slower on major highways, heck even Byways...not a lot slower, but noticeably...and, especially, I am much more careful.   In many ways, I am plainly more conservative.  However, I am still a quite competent and safe rider.  When I am not I shall sell my 2 wheeler, and very much later sell the sidecar.  Sidecars are a LOT of fun, very addicting, but they are NOT motorcycles.

My favorite riding is on my R100RT two-wheeler, in STEEP twisties, that means mostly minor 'roads' in the back country areas.  I like rather spirited riding on those narrow roads.  I find them challenging, still.

Nowadays I spend WAY too much time involved in responding on some Internet mailing LISTS.  I still go to the gym; probably try for 5 mornings a week, make 3, do some electronic repair jobs, work on my motorcycles and house, get into the outdoors some, work on this website.   As noted previously, Penny and I were married at the end of September, 2006.  Following the marriage has come some remodeling (brightening, feminizing, updating the kitchen counters and floors, etc.) of the house and yard, and doing many things, especially outdoors, that Penny, my love, likes to do...as I do.    

Penny and I will hike, ski and travel.  We live OK on a limited income.  We would have more money than to know what to do with if I kept my pension, but I'm not the high life type.   I attend an occasional Airhead event...such as a campout or TechDay.  A Rally now and then.   A sidecar event now and then.    Penny will sometimes be accompanying me.  She prefers the sidecar rig over the two-wheeler.

I was VERY lucky to get someone late in my life like Penny; who is quite the outdoorsy and otherwise very active type of person.  I love her dearly.   These are not 'just words'.

     I am still toying with the idea of total retirement.  I have cut my work load down tremendously.  I disposing of some things, mostly sporadically on Ebay; or, on my website SALE page;....things I don't need, things that give me more room for finishing old projects and having more convenient access to my bikes.  I expect to continue this for a few more years.  SO....there is a SALE page on this website.   Yes, that was a hyperlink.  

 I turn down a considerable amount of the more involved (well, headachy) jobs now.    I look forward to more traveling with Penny, and lots more activities with her.   I have mostly finished the restoration and updating and maintenance I started some time ago on my R100RT and on the sidecar rig too.       I doubt I will get my 600K BMW badge for a few years though....am just not riding all THAT much (I'm up to 540K+ now???).   In 2008 Penny and I did a 5500+ mile trip on the sidecar rig....there is a story and photos on this website about it:  tripphotos.htm   yes, that's a hyperlink. 

(Bob, Blinky, Flash, Snowbum, whatever.....18 October 2008)

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